


Evidence of a Lewd Act

by Ponderosa



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Canon Character of Color, Hate Sex, Insults, M/M, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/Ponderosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the cops drink at McQuaids, and Richard has some very strongly engineered drinks in his blood when he discovers that insulting Kennex's android works better than waving a red flag in front of bull. If it wasn’t so pathetic, it’d be funny. </p><p>a.k.a. pure unadulterated snarky hatesex in a bar bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evidence of a Lewd Act

**Author's Note:**

> Giant thank you to my usual partner in crime, autoschediastic, for beta'ing and providing some of the best of Richard's snark and in general encouraging my crush on Michael Irby.

Kennex walks his team into a fatal ambush and he gets invited back. He willfully destroys the first MX partnered to him and he gets a stern warning and a reissue. He discharges his weapon in a crowd, takes the head straight off Richard’s MX, and Detective John fucking Kennex is somehow still on the force.

Anger simmers under Richard’s skin, builds up and boils over throughout the rest of the day until he ends up popping half a bottle of antacids and has to tell his new MX to stop giving him biowarnings about his blood pressure. He and Kennex have never been friends, but they’d never been enemies--the barbs had always slung both ways, because when it comes down to it they bleed the same shade of blue.

But now--

Richard shuts down a whole panel of files and swipes his notes to be deleted. It’s late and he’s getting nowhere fast. A part of Richard wishes that his old MX hadn’t already transmitted the visual data recorded from the morning’s first crime scene; maybe then the Captain would stop responding to each and every one of Kennex’s fuckups with a verbal slap across the face and nothing more. That case already has so little to go on though, losing the visual data would’ve sunk it entirely. Bullet catchers or not, Kennex didn’t even pause to think about what might be in the MX’s active memory banks.

There’s simply no way--no fucking way--that asshole should still have a desk.

Richard’s still seething after knocking back his third happy hour special at McQuaid’s. After the fourth, he hits the head and the scowl staring back at him from the mirror makes it plain why everyone in the bar has been giving him a wide berth. Splashing a bit of water on his face helps him look a touch less homicidal. A quick little pep talk in his head further eases the furrows in his brow.

He’s wiping his hands on a towel when the door swings inward, a far too familiar figure shouldering it open. Kennex’s exuberant, “Start without me!” wrenches the corners of Richard’s mouth tight again. Kennex pauses for half a heartbeat, his smile as fake as they come. His head cocks to the side as he surveys the scene. “Oh, my mistake, didn’t realize this was the ladies room.”

“You must have also failed to realize this was a bar catering to police officers.” Richard shoves the wadded towel into the disposal unit. “I don’t believe you qualify.”

“Well, the shield says otherwise.”

“The Captain’s not going to cover for you forever.” Richard takes a step towards the door and Kennex and his smug face doesn’t budge. He’s practically inviting an elbow aimed right at the sternum, and with some very strongly engineered drinks swimming in Richard’s blood and a chaser of fresh rage, Richard doesn’t hesitate for longer than a heartbeat before taking the swing. The breath driven out of Kennex’s lungs smells like cheap synthohol, and it’s oh so satisfying to see the twist of his smirk turn into a grimace of pain. He’s quick to aim a smack at Richard’s head, and as quick to block the hand going for his throat as he’d been in Maldonado’s office. There’s no threat of disciplinary action or a pouty-faced DRN unit to hold Richard back now though, and he grins when after a few hard strikes aimed low and dirty and a sharp uppercut Kennex stumbles back favoring his real leg. Blood shines bright at the corner of his mouth.

“Now you’ve done it,” Kennex says. His eyes go heavy and he licks away the red with the point of his tongue. A little slower of a lick and Richard would have to wonder if this was a fight or foreplay.

Richard scrapes his teeth over his lip and shakes out his hand. “Aw, did I hurt you along with your feelings?”

Kennex snarls like a dog and throws all of his weight into a messy charge that makes Richard laugh up until the instant it hits him. Stars explode in his left field of vision, and his stomach gets driven into his throat. He chokes on a cough and the mirror rattles as his shoulder slams into the wall. He comes back with a kick aimed at the ankle and lands a few solid punches, but it’s a lucky move that lets Kennex catch his wrist and pin his arm behind his back. He’s swung around and driven forward, chest forced up against the stalls like a perp. He’d come here intending to pick someone up, maybe even get shoved around just like this before the night was out, but Kennex sure as hell wasn’t on his list. 

“You’re going to apologize.”

“To you? Please.” Richard scoffs. Pain lances up his arm, fire hot and vicious. Kennex is a heavy weight, the strength he’s got to match his height obvious now that’s he’s got the upper hand. The flood of relief when he eases up makes Richard’s legs shake. Sometimes--most times--Richard really hates how much it turns him on to get pinned down by genetically enhanced gorillas like Kennex. The shiver that starts in Richard’s guts comes with a fresh surge of anger.

“Like that’d mean something to me. You need to apologize to Dorian.”

“Fuck him. Fuck you _and_ fuck him.” Richard works his jaw from side to side, a deep inhale hijacked by a fresh shove that practically plasters Kennex in a long line against him. Breath steams at the nape of Richard’s neck and he buries a moan. Now it feels distinctly like foreplay.

“I don’t think Dorian would agree to that. He’s got standards.”

Insulting that android works better than waving a red flag in front of bull. If it wasn’t so pathetic, it’d be funny. Richard can’t tell though whether or not Kennex is just dumb or-- No, dumb is probably it. Hell, he’s not acting like he’s even conscious that his boner is grinding up against Richard’s hip. “Good thing they built those DRNs with anatomy ain’t it, because the amount you want to gag on that robot dick is damn impressive.”

“What are you saying?” Kennex takes his hands off Richard like he’s been burned. He slaps a palm down hard between Richard’s shoulderblades before he can turn and face the snarl he can hear in Kennex’s voice. “I like women. I like women a lot.”

“Congratulations, so do I. Do you want a medal for that? Your gay panic is about three decades out of date.”

“I’m not panicking.” Kennex’s hand turns into a fist that pulls Richard’s shirt taut.

“And you’re not packing a gun in your pants right now either.”

A surge of sadistic amusement hits Richard when Kennex glances down and recognizes that yeah, he is hard, and yeah, Richard had felt it. He can picture the stupid poleaxed look on Kennex’s face and the goldfish gape of his mouth. Richard rolls his eyes and yanks at his belt, and when Kennex retreats in confusion, he elbows open the stall door. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Just shut up and stick your fucking dick in me.”

He works out the cramp in his arm and gives Kennex a look when the big idiot stays rooted to the floor. “Coming?”

“You’re serious.”

Richard hooks his thumbs into the waist of his pants, shoving them halfway down his hips. John’s gaze latches on to the sliver of skin he’s flashing and the corner of Richard’s mouth tugs into a smirk. “Unless you're only into synthetics like your basement-dwelling friend.”

John reacts like a hammer’s come down on a big red button, crowding into the stall, taking over shoving Richard's pants down like that alone proves he's not a mouth-breathing homophobe. In between opening his own fly, he slaps the door shut and flips the latch. It’s cozy but not cramped.

“I’m not kissing you or anything,” he says, standing a little too close when pulling his dick out for Richard to get an eyeful.

“Yeah good.” 

“You’re clean, right?”

“If you’re asking about STIs I’m all negative. If you’re asking if I need to take a shit, well, the pipes are clear but they haven’t been rinsed if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, gross.” Kennex says, but he lines up behind Richard anyway, cock slapping hot against Richard’s skin.

“Hey! Where’s the protection? Just because I said I was all negative doesn’t mean I know where you’ve stuck that thing before.”

“I don’t have a condom on me.”

“Guess you really _don’t_ get laid much. Here.” Richard digs a spray-on out of his pocket and slaps it into John’s hand.

“Self-lubricating, nice. Does it come in cherry?“ John waits a beat for a retort that never comes and sprays the condom on with something pointless grudgingly muttered under his breath. He counts off the time it takes for the seal to set before he gets back into position. The nudge of his cock against the inside of Richard’s thigh is slick this time, but he still seems to fumble around like he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to put it. “This would be easier if you were in heels.”

“Honey, you don’t deserve me in heels.”

“I’m just saying, if you weren’t so short.”

Richard snorts, legs inching apart until the trap of his pants around his thighs won’t let him spread his feet any further. “If your cock wasn’t so short, you mean. You’ve got knees; use them. Don’t tell me your synthetic leg is running out of charge already.”

John’s weak comeback isn’t worth the breath it’d take to turn it around, not when his cockhead wedges up against Richard’s hole. He’s not huge, but John isn’t exactly easing it in like a pro, and Richard’s glad that the spray-on isn’t the cheap stuff; the lubricant will last, even if John keeps just rubbing against him trying to find the right angle. “Always knew you were a tightass,” John rasps out, a shaky sound following as he finally manages to push into Richard. 

“Stop talking and fuck me.” Richard closes his eyes as John slides in to the hilt. He shoves his hips back, a hand bracing against the wall. John fucks into him quick and shallow, rutting like a teenager, and it’s not like Richard’s expecting technique in a bar bathroom hookup, but he didn’t _actually_ expect John to be a shit lay. The way John is humping against him is completely unsatisfying on top of awkward, and he eventually has to reach back to slap a hand on John’s hip and maneuver him so he stops trying to occupy the same space as the toilet. “Christ, you’re worthless,” Richard says, retrieving his hand and using the leverage of the stall to work his hips and set an example. “Alright, now go for fuck’s sake.”

Being able to bend forward and have more room to fuck himself on Kennex’s dick works wonders. Enough wonders that Kennex seems to have turned into marble and forgotten how to move.

“Just like you to stand around while--” Richard shudders and curls a hand over the top of the stall as he writhes his hips until John’s cock is rubbing into and inside him in all the right ways. “Fuck. While I do all the real work.”

“I’m busy enjoying the sight of you impaled on my dick, _Dick_.”

Richard rolls his eyes despite the little flutter of pleasure in his belly knowing that John probably _was_ watching, eyes glued to the stretch of Richard’s asshole. Maybe he’s made it this far in life without doing someone in the ass before. Maybe he’s wondering what it’d be like to get his own ass wrecked by Dorian’s plastic fuckstick. “Thought maybe you were just trying not to blow it. Figured you were too quick on the trigger everywhere.”

His next breath gets forced out of him, the hard smack of Kennex’s hips driving him forward. He grins and grabs the top of the stall with both hands as Kennex finally gets with the program, the slide of his cock pulling back just as slick and sweet as the next long thrust in. “I’ve got plenty of stamina,” Kennex says, punctuating each word with the smack of his body against Richard’s. “So you can shut your mouth.”

“I’ll shut up when you learn how to fuck a man right. Bangbots are programmed from Dorian’s routines, so maybe next time I’ll--”

John growls and claps a hand over Richard’s mouth. His palm is a little damp and smells disgustingly like beer nuts. The hand over the mouth trick might work to silence an MX, but Richard’s vocal chords work just fine--he makes an obscene sound and John’s hand tightens. The startled noise John makes when Richard pushes his tongue out and scores a lick sends a tingle up Richard’s spine that makes the salt-taste spreading to the back of his mouth more than worth it. He forces his tongue between two of John’s fingers, and knows he’s won this round when there’s a moment of hesitation when John just lets his fingers slip right into Richard’s mouth for him to suck on.

His other hand flirts at Richard’s hip, like he can’t commit to either a handhold or a reach-around. He’s getting off on the tongue rolling under the press of his fingers though, there’s no doubt. His teeth scrape near Richard’s shoulder with the same shaky unwillingness to choose between a bite or a kiss. If Richard didn’t have his mouth full, he’d goad Kennex towards the bite, but as it is, pushing his tongue along Kennex’s fingers is taking all his concentration. There’s no way Kennex is going to leave without being stuck wondering from now until eternity just how amazing it’d be to have Richard suck his dick.

“You are one filthy son of a bitch,“ John says, sounding dazed. Spit-slick, he pulls his hand away from Richard’s mouth, the unsteady rhythm of his hips breaking further as he gropes for Richard’s dick with wet fingers. He feels around and Richard waits for a snide remark about being surprised he actually has balls, but the reality is so much better. John sounds legitimately furious, sputtering out, “Oh my god, is everyone in the department built like a porn star? I swear if Rudy drops trou and has a baseball bat between his skinny-ass legs, I going to-- Well I don’t know what I’d do, but this is not fair.”

“Short jokes just aren’t going to be the same now are they?”

“I swear to god I am going to shoot you,” Kennex says, but he’s still running slick fingers around Richard’s cock like he’s trying to memorize it by feel. He’s all but stopped thrusting, the little fitful twitches of his hips mirroring the slip of his fingertips.

Richard shudders as Kennex just plays with him, not enough friction on his dick or at his ass to do more than make his teeth itch. He rocks up onto his toes and thinks about a hand on the back of his neck. Of being on his knees with Kennex slamming into him and then turning it into a flip fuck with Kennex begging as his thighs spread wide. Oh he’d make Kennex beg all right, he’d deactivate Kennex’s leg and pin the real one down, fuck him until his spent cock was hard again and still not let him come. Richard holds that image front and center and licks his lips. “Keep fucking me, will you? Just don’t shoot too fast.”

Kennex makes this strangled sound as if he’s seconds away from doing just that, and with one last swipe of his fingers over the head of Richard’s dick, he commits to sliding his fist down the length of it. Like before, there’s no real skill or thought to the way Kennex handles him, and Richard clamps a hand down on his wrist. “Hey, watch it. You trying to tear it off or something? If this is how you handle a cock, it’s a wonder you haven’t had to replace yours along with your leg.” Richard slides his hand over John’s, ignoring the way John goes stiff and awkward as he guides each stroke. He bites down on a groan when John’s resistance melts and more weight settles against his back. “There we go. You liking that, Kennex? Having a nice fat cock in your hand?”

John doesn’t say a word, but his heavy rasping breaths tell Richard everything he needs to know: John is into it all right. He’s so damn into it the two cells in his brain have short circuited. Richard doesn’t entirely mind the silence being filled with only the wet sounds of their fucking, but John had better not be trying to sell himself on some fantasy that doesn’t involve what’s actually going on here.

“You’re no pencil dick, I’ll give you that, Kennex, but what a difference a couple inches makes huh?” Richard scrapes his teeth over his lip only to lick it wet again, watching the way John’s hand moves under his own. The pull almost matches the slide of Kennex’s dick fucking into him nice and deep, each slick thrust good enough that Richard’s almost willing to forgive the shaky start. “Bet you can’t wait to feel me come. I’ve got a nice big load saved up. Hell, my only regret is that it’s not going to end up on your face.”

John makes a noise, but not the one that Richard expects, it’s more like-- Richard stops focusing on the friction at the head of his dick and the fullness in his ass as a shudder goes through John. A shallow, needy thrust and a hard throbbing that Richard can _feel_ comes with another utterly embarrassing choking sound. Richard briefly closes his eyes. “You did not just….” 

John’s forehead drops against his shoulder. “Don’t say it,” John mutters, his breathing hot and ragged.

“What? That I guess you really _couldn’t_ wait to feel me come.” 

“Can’t resist kicking a man when he’s down, can you, Richard.”

“Not when that man is you.” Richard hopes to heaven that John’s ugly face has turned beet red from humiliation. At least he doesn’t pull out when his grip goes firm again, keeping the rhythm from Richard’s guiding touch while the pressure remains uniquely his own. It takes a moment before Richard gets into it again, but watching John’s hand on him does the trick. He’s pretty sure John’s not going to walk away from this without thinking back on it at least six times a day. He probably won’t even be able to look Richard’s way without remembering how he blew his wad or what it felt like to get a handful of Richard’s cock. Richard’s eyes are heavy as he holds on to the top of the stall, rocking into the fist jerking him and onto what’s left of John’s softening cock. Fucking with John’s head is going to be infinitely better than fucking him.

But when the bathroom door bangs open and Rudy calls out, “John, are you still in here?” Richard’s not sure if it’s him or John that groans.

“I’ll be done in a minute,” John says, in his condescending, overly patient tone of voice. Miraculously, his hand hasn’t stopped, and if anything he’s doing a better job of things, working Richard nice and tight and wrapping his free arm around Richard’s chest. It’s a warning hold, Richard realises when he shifts his weight and John clamps down, pinning Richard like he’s going to do something like flip the latch and invite Rudy to watch.

“Are you all right? You sound a bit peaked.”

Richard muffles a laugh. When John gives him a threatening shake, he has to muffle a groan.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

“Oh. Oh, I see. My apologies, didn’t mean to interrupt you and your-- Your...special friend.” There’s the sound of shoes scuffling on tile, like Rudy’s forgotten there’s only one way out. The idiot probably has his eyes closed. 

If he’s not thinking too hard about it, John does a fine job at handling cock. His thumb nudges up to rub all the right places, and the hold he’s got on Richard more than makes up for the way he’s gone partially soft.

“Well, I best get back to the table,” Rudy stammers.

“You do that,” John says through his teeth while Richard squirms in his grip and starts seeing stars. His knuckles strain as he fucks into John’s grip, the heat building in his nerves like a spark turned to flame. He can’t quite stifle a gasp when John brings him off, the sound swift and harsh and not quite lost in the clamor of the barroom as Rudy escapes.

“Not bad,” Richard says, hanging from his fingertips as John milks the very last out of him. He doesn’t peel away from Richard’s back as quickly as expected, but when he does he makes as much space between them as possible in the stall. Richard hikes up his pants while John scrubs his hand with toilet paper.

He leaves the mess on the wall for John to clean up if he wants to be a boy scout about it and flicks the latch, going to wash his hands again while John peels the condom off. When the toilet flushes, Richard looks over to see John staring at him like he’s trying to convince himself firstly that what just happened really happened and secondly that it isn’t going to come back and haunt him.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Richard says, when John’s brows knit together and he looks positively _pained_ about whatever it is chugging its way through his gray matter. Richard wads up the paper towel in his hands and yanks opens the bathroom door. Across the busy barroom, Dorian’s gaze catches his. Blue flashes through Dorian’s circuitry and Richard tosses a look over his shoulder to where Kennex is slinking out of the stall. “Better clean up before your partner catches you with evidence of a lewd act.”

“You’re a lewd act.”

Richard feels a whole lot better than he did when he came in here, and when he points to the ‘employees must wash hands’ sign and John’s scowl deepens, his spirits just rise further. “Damn right,” he says, and leaves Kennex behind.


End file.
